


Moonlight Meetings

by Elfy (elfowlgirl)



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:04:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfowlgirl/pseuds/Elfy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble with the gals. Oneshot. (originally posted to Tumblr on July 23, 2015)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight Meetings

Aesling sits by the windowsill, having finally pried it open after almost twenty minutes of trying, and waits.

She’s the only one in the room so late at night. Chairs are left haphazardly at abandoned tables, the barkeep has long since gone home (wherever _that_ was), and the rest of her traveling companions are fast asleep. Last she checked, Kier - Kyr - however he now chose to spell it - had one armed wrapped around Markus, the other clinging to the beginnings of his next weird invention. Gregor contentedly lay across the floor, and Thog (reluctantly) was sleeping in the smaller bed as she’d known and insisted that any sleep she was going to get that night was minimal.

Ashe keeps her head pointedly still staring at her book, moonlight the only light left to read by, and absentmindedly turns a page, though she’s fairly certain they both know she’s not actually reading it anymore.

“You weren’t kidding. You’re like a cat, you know that?”

“Well, we share the same grace.” Inien takes a bite of the piece of cake, having cut it primly and properly with the fork provided as if she wasn’t still dressed in her pajamas - or at the very least clothes that resembled them.

“And arrogance.”

When she looks up, the witch is smiling smugly. “Did you really want to start this with animalistic comparisons? Because I have _a_ _few_ ready for you - ”

“What happened to us being on good terms?”

“Have you always had such a fondness for rhetorical questions?” She licks her lips, then her fork, and finally her plate. “Did you want to discuss something, or were you just hoping for the pleasure of my company?”

Ashe shrugs, finally closing the leather-bound tome and setting it aside, resting her head on her folded hands. Inien looks torn between amusement and befuddlement. She glances at the tome. “What’s that?”

She shrugs, again. “A book Markus had. It’s about tieflings. Maybe it’s an interesting read for him, but nothing overly interesting.”

“You know what they say, it’s fairly easy to get sucked into a book.” Inien grins at her joke. Ashe has the gall to look unamused.

“Inien, he told us what happened.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not funny.” She adjusts her seating and ducks beneath the window, now leaning into the bar. “Is this it? You have a piece of cake to spare but not a piece of conversation?”

“If there’s something you want to talk about, I’m all ears.”

The witch rests her head in her palm. “I’m not sure if it’s exposure to Markus or my own wit rolling away from me, but all the retorts I had for that were puns.”

“He does that to you sometimes.”

“Or is it, perhaps, that you didn’t like the idea of me going hungry for a night?” Her grin is persistent as she leans in closer.

“I’m sure you’d manage. It’s been a decent while since the tower blew up. Can’t mages summon food, anyhow?”

“Some can,” she replies and continues glancing around the empty room. “Some day I’ll have to give you magic lessons. Not on using magic, of course, just the basics.”

“To the surprise of no one, we went to a damned so-called ‘wizard high school’ and learned nothing about magic while we were there.”

“I at least appreciate the ‘so-called’. The difference between a coven and a school are so radical I’m not sure where he got the notion…”

When Ashe wakes the next morning, she’s sitting at the table, head resting against the weathered wood, fragments of her late-night conversation still running through her head. A small scrap of paper is tucked under her hand and when she moves to look at it, she finds a crude, but cute, sketch.

A little (familiar) witch, hand waving, and a heart.


End file.
